


la morsure

by cubile



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey - Freeform, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, season 3 b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cubile/pseuds/cubile
Summary: "My answer changes every day."---“What would you do, if you got bitten? Stab yourself through the heart?”---"You've thought about it, right? The bite?"---"I could save more people. My friends. My pack.”---“Maybe it doesn’t matter.""Maybe it's the only thing that does."
Kudos: 8





	la morsure

**Author's Note:**

> prequel to a fic im probably never going to write but if i do, its gonna bang

“Would you ever want it?” he asked her, one night, when he didn’t even know half of what was to come. “The bite?”

Allison tipped her head back to rest against Scott’s shoulder, eyes trying to find his in the dim light. They were fixed above them, on the moon barely a sliver in the sky. She fixed hers there too.

“I’ve thought about it, sometimes,” she said. “It’s hard not to.”

“And?” Scott prompted in the silence that followed, even the bugs quieting to hear her answer.

“And,” she said, “my answer changes every day.”

“What would you do?” Derek asked, hard and unyielding, eyes glowing mutedly in his anger. Scott looked between them, saw Derek’s bleeding palms, saw her trembling fists, and didn’t move for fear of setting them off, pointed at each other and ready to  _ hurt _ . “What would you do, if you got bitten? Shoot yourself through the back of the skull? Jump into traffic, off a bridge?” His voice dropped dangerously low. “Stab yourself through the heart?”

“Derek,” Scott snapped, inciting another wave of yells from both sides, harsh words and hard truths being exchanged, but Allison wasn’t listening. She just breathed, and breathed, and breathed through it, and didn’t listen to the voice in the back of her head saying  _ I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. _

“You’ve thought about it, right?”

“What, Stiles?” she asked, about a million times too beaten down to deal with his incessant brand of anxiety, his questions that came at the speed of light.

“The bite,” he said, and, oh, didn’t that just make her burn inside, the audacity of him to even ask, now, when Scott was  _ gone  _ with an alpha so cruel to be termed Demon Wolf.

“Have you?” she snapped back, whipping her head around to look at him, uncaring of the way he flinched slightly.

Nonetheless, his voice didn’t shake as he answered, “Only every day since Peter offered it.”

“Then why did you bother asking?” she replied, and turned her gaze to the front again, sightless once more. “You already know what the answer is.”

“Allison,” Lydia said, “do you ever think about it?”

“Lydia,” Allison said, “you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

She could practically feel the other girl’s eye roll as she twisted onto her stomach on Allison’s bed, so she could stare down into Allison’s eyes when she said, “The bite.”

She can’t help the quirk of her lips as she remembers how closely this conversation echoes the one she had with Stiles what seems now like ages ago. “If I want it, you mean,” she still asked.

Lydia pursed her lips slightly as she nodded, worry settling on her face like a default expression.

“I can’t sleep at night sometimes, thinking about my mom,” Allison answered, voice breaking. “About how she killed herself for a cause that I abandoned. About what she would think of me now.” She had to swallow down emotion, it setting her voice trembling. “About what she would think if I became one of them.”

“She would be proud of you, no matter what,” Lydia whispered. Allison’s shaking hands sought out hers.

“No, she wouldn’t,” Allison answered, squeezing hard. “But there are days when I don’t know if that matters, if it means I could save more people. My friends. My pack.” Tears rolled down her face. She closed her eyes, and let them come.

“It’s okay,” Isaac told her in the regrouping stage, Stiles split in two and Lydia gone with one half. “I remember when Derek told me about it. Everything. And I wanted so badly, I was scared of it.”

“You wanted for very different reasons than I would,” Allison replied, knowing the topic of conversation implicitly. It hovered in rooms with her, followed her footsteps daily. It was her biggest what if, and she could feel it getting closer.

“Maybe,” Isaac said. “Maybe not. Maybe your reasons are better than mine.”

“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” Allison snapped.

“Maybe it’s the only thing that does,” he countered.

“It’s been years, Isaac,” she said. “If I truly wanted it, I would’ve made that decision long ago.”  
“You’re on a ledge, Allison. Maybe you just need a push, one way or the other.”

“I don’t want a push. I want to decide. If I become a werewolf,” she said, “it has to be my decision.”

“Allison,” Scott gasped out, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered, even after all this time. Looking at her the way he used to, back when she didn’t know what he was, when that didn’t matter. Like he did the first day he met her, handing her a pen in homeroom, like he did when he told her he loved her, like he did when she told him it was over. Like she was the center of the universe, and he was trapped in her orbit.

“Scott,” she breathed.

“Scott,” she gasped.

“Sco—” she was no more.

And then—

She came awake gasping, no, screaming, no,  _ roaring _ around a mouthful of teeth that felt too big for her mouth, her nails scrabbling against the cold concrete ground she had meant to die on, her face instinctively seeking out the moonlight. Nothing made sense to her eyes, the world covered in a layer of red that she could barely comprehend it through. Her dad had a gun to the underside of Scott’s jaw, pressing him against the nearest wall, mouth moving intently, but she couldn’t  _ hear _ . Everything was so loud, the courtyard echoing with the remnants of a scream,  _ Lydia’s scream _ , and Kira was yelling, her sword out and threatening, but she didn’t know why, it didn’t make  _ sense _ , and then—Isaac was there, his hands curling around her head, palms over her ears, quieting everything for a second, just long enough for her to blink the red from her gaze and find his eyes with her own. They were lit up, gold shining from his irises, but they faded as she held them with her own.

“Isaac?” she asked, feeling more than hearing her voice vibrate through both of them. “What’s happening?”

His hands slid down to cradle her jaw, allowing the sound to come rushing back in, but it didn’t matter as much, as he tipped his forehead down to meet hers, capturing the attention of all her senses, even as the pack reacted in a whirlwind around them. “You were dying,” he said, plainly, holding her still even as she gasped in realization, tears coming to her eyes and hands going to her abdomen. One of his hands dropped to cover both of hers where they pressed to whole, healed skin, bloody with no source of bleeding. “Scott did the only thing he could.”

“He turned me,” Allison said, feeling the shift burn through her, knowing her eyes were turning gold even as Isaac’s did too.

“He saved you,” Isaac corrected. “It just came with some side effects. But you’re going to be okay.”

“Isaac,” she said, her voice breaking, tears starting to run freely down her cheeks. “Isaac,” she choked out, knees buckling, bringing him to the concrete she was supposed to  _ die on, don’t you get that, she was supposed to die _ . “Isaac,” she could barely push past her lips, still containing traces of blood, her blood,  _ she was supposed to die _ .

“Shhhh,” he whispered, calming her even as she split his wrists open with newfound claws, one held in each hand, their foreheads pressed together hard enough to ground her in and of itself. The sound of him whispering reassurances was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of her life shattering into splinters.


End file.
